


Chronicle of the Two: Shiva and Ifrit.

by sleepyprincess



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: F/M, In the afterlife, Making Love, Minor Lunafreya Nox Fleuret/Noctis Lucis Caelum, NSFW, Sensuality, Sex, Storytelling, after noct dies, esp the astrals, most of the characters are mentioned but some have small parts, not sorry, she tells them the story of her and ifrit just before the war of the astrals, shiva visits noctis and luna in the afterlife, tagged it a lot
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-12-04
Updated: 2020-03-16
Packaged: 2021-02-25 22:27:22
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 6
Words: 3,917
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21672925
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sleepyprincess/pseuds/sleepyprincess
Summary: Noctis and Luna are chilling in the Afterlife.After sensing Noct's curiosity, Gentiana pays him a visit and decides to tell him, in more depth, a love story:Hers.
Relationships: (mildly) - Relationship, Gentiana/Ifrit (Final Fantasy XV), Ifrit/Shiva (Final Fantasy XV), Ifrit/Shiva (Final Fantasy), Lunafreya Nox Fleuret & Noctis Lucis Caelum
Comments: 2
Kudos: 5





	1. Meanwhile, in the Afterlife...

**Author's Note:**

> I've been curious about how Ifrit and Shiva interacted with each other when they were together for a while.  
> I can't find many works on the two speaking with each other directly (unless it's after his betrayal); so I've decided to make my own.

Noctis hummed in contemplation as he lounged on the throne, his Oracle and beloved Lunafreya in an untroubled sleep next to him. He had woken up not too long ago, crystals continuing to float around the throne room the two had reunited in not long after the man had purged Eos of the Starscourge; at the cost of his own life.  


Despite his death, Noct was relieved to have saved the world – and to be back with his cherished Luna. He reflected on how grateful he felt to have protected the entire world from impending doom; the aid of the Gods, his friends, Luna, his dad and everyone around him would forever remain in his heart. He was eternally grateful, hoping his comrades were okay.  


Glancing over at his now-wife’s napping form, Noct remembered the High Messenger who always remained by the Oracle’s side when she was alive.  


Gentiana, also known as Shiva, was of substantial guidance in fulfilling his calling. On the train headed to Tenebrae, she had revealed to him her true form as the Glacian before divulging the shared past of the Astrals. She had then asked Noctis to release her own love, the Infernian, from his state of corruption inflicted upon him by Ardyn. He had carried out that promise by granting him peace in death.  


What made Noct still wonder, however, were a few things:  


_What was Ifrit like before he tried to destroy Solheim?_  


_How did he treat Shiva?_  


_Could she see him again somehow?_  


As if his curiosity was made known, the very Messenger he pondered about appeared on the steps before him.  


“Gentiana?”  


“The Chosen King is intrigued by the tale of the Pyreburner and the Frostbearer,” Gentiana stated in her serene matter-of-factly tone she carried, her eyes remaining shut. “Time was of the essence when the recounting of the Astrals’ enmity. Now that the dawn reigns in the world once more, the King shall be gifted the chronicle of the Two.”  


With that being said, the High Messenger spread her arms and allowed her own being to transform into her true self, the Glacian. The air around them shifted into a soft but feasible chill, prompting Noct to check on Luna; she seemed unaffected by the change, albeit repositioning herself to be closer to him slightly. He obliged and moved closer to her, as much as the throne would allow. Their arms brushed against one another with a light graze.  


Shiva watched the small but meaningful interaction with a fond smile, her own memories of affection and warmth coming back to her as she recited her epic.


	2. After the Meeting of the Six...

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Boy meets Girl.
> 
> Except Boy being a tireless Infernian, and Girl being an unyielding Glacian.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here's where it begins. It'll have the other Astrals in it too, but mostly Ifrit and Shiva.

_The Gods' protection extends to all creatures here below—even to the mortals created in their image. They are feeble creatures leading fragile lives and clinging to foolish fancies. The Frostbearer scorns these visions of "hope" which melt like snow in the sun's light._

“Decrepit vessels of _meat_ ,” The Hydrean hissed, her voice threaded with unrelenting detestation as her and the Glacian sauntered out of the Hall of the Six, “I fail to perceive the significance of the Draconian’s reasoning behind our obligations to aid those creatures in their pursuit of prosperity.”  


She could not help but concur.  


Shiva could only respond with a small shrug of her glassy shoulders, allowing Leviathan to continue her tangent about how trivial-minded humans were before they parted ways.  


She glared ahead upon seeing the Infernian, who let out a hearty laugh at a joke the Fulgurian, Ramuh, had just made. Ifrit, unlike her, respected humans; especially for their strength of will, their drive to prevail. It was known he would eventually grant the mortals his flame, as he had observed them for a seemingly long time. Just like fire, he was persistent and overpowering. Shiva shook such thoughts away, silently chastising herself for even thinking about him. She was ice; indurate, unhalting.  


_He is a fool_ , she thought to herself. _A fool with creed. These mindless beasts are delusional with fleeting lives and and hopeless dreams._  


“Frostbearer!”  


Shiva turned to be met by the warm gaze of Ifrit, who approached her with a smile. This only incited a grimace from the Frostbearer, who turned her head away from him. Was he there to preach, once more, his foolish fancies about those feeble creatures? She hoped not.  


“Pyreburner,” she said coolly, “if you have come to scorn me, I shall not have time for it. I reserve judgement.”  


His reaction was unexpected, it being another hearty laugh.  


“Fret not, bewitching Glacian,” he assured her, putting his heated hand on her arm. “I only ask for a moment alone with you. I only wish to show you something.”  


_Bewitching? Charming._

  


“Something consisting of _those **creatures**_ ,” she assumed, letting some ice around the area prick at Ifrit’s hand on her arm. This drew a frown out of the Infernian, causing him to pull his hand away and inspect it.  


“Obstinate as always,” he narrowed his eyes at her. “You resent me for sharing my power with them. They are capable of conquering many feats, Frostbearer.”  


“They are delusional, Pyreburner,” she argued, “They cling to nothing but hopes and dreams. Their lives are fugacious. I feel nothing but disdain for those puny beings.” After saying that, she finally looked into his orange eyes, “And you are just as foolhardy as _them_.” The Glacian then took off, headed back down to Eos and to the area she had been entrusted with.

The Infernian only shook his head and headed down not long after. Someday, he would warm her heart.


	3. Judgment Bolt

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ramuh the Fulgurian? More like the Wingman-gurian.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> BTW, just pretend they're all speaking in the Hexatheon language. Only Bahamut and Shiva know the English Language, if I'm not mistaken.

_The Glacian's place among the Six lies opposite that of the Infernian, Ifrit._

A scoff escaped the Glacian’s chilly lips in the course of having to see to the safety of the mortals on Eos. She watched them from a distance in nearby mountains. Not only did she deride them for their very existence; in that moment, she spotted a male and female mortal expressing what seemed to be affection towards one another. This merely left a sullen taste in her mouth as their lips locked together during their embrace. Watching these gestures almost tempted Shiva to blast some flurries in their direction.  


While raising her scepter to go through with her minute intrusion, a striking bolt was inflicted onto her wrist. She hissed and turned toward the source of the painful but undamaging zap.  


The Stormsender hovered next to her with a furrowed brow.  


“Feeling trifling today, are we, Frostbearer?” he appraised, carrying an amused look on his aged visage.  


With a snarl, Shiva rubbed her now-sore wrist tenderly for a moment before she stood up straight.  


“I see no point in assisting them,” she dismissed, “They perish far too often, indisputably. They are spineless with fleeting existence.” As she spoke to Ramuh, the Ice Goddess winced as she observed the same mortal couple from before now dancing to a soundless song, with his arms wrapped around her waist, her hand caressing his cheek. Disgust was all she could feel for the tiny humans.  


“The Infernian carries undaunted optimism towards them,” Ramuh offered, “even with their fleeting lives, Frostbearer, they are not insolent. They are acquainted with their mortality, if not humbled by it.” He tapped his staff fondly.  


With the mentioning of Ifrit, another sour taste presented itself in the Glacian’s mouth. “He is vexing with his idealism of embracing those fragile creatures,” she huffed and clutched her scepter tightly, careful not to break it in her resentment. “What brings you here, Stormsender?”  


A smile lit up his archaic eyes prior to making a rejoinder as he also viewed the humans below them, “I was beseeched to descry you, by the Pyreburner himself.”  


Shiva suppressed another scoff, replacing it with a prolonged inhale of the chill air that surrounded her continually. On her exhale, frost took flight from her breath, traveling to the village just near the mountains the two Astrals lingered on. The couple shivered from the abrupt cold that now pervaded the area, much to the Glacian’s mirth and all abandon.  
“And why is that ignoramus conveying you? Have you not any lands to preserve as well?”  


“It is only for a flying moment that I will be here,” Ramuh guaranteed, “I simply request you permit the Pyreburner to show you the ultimate potential of mortals. They would value your granting substantially. You would be revered, as the variant Astrals are.”  


As these words were uttered, the God of Storm disappeared into thin air before she could declare any protest.  


“Cursed Pyreburner and his buoyancy,” Shiva growled as she blew more of her almost-deathly chill at the humans beneath her. Seeing their reactions to her iciness incurred a small chuckle from the goddess, until she grew bored of fiddling around with the foolish creatures.  


She traveled to Solheim, the land the Six were obligated to keep a close eye on due to the worship given to most of them by the people. Settling once more in the mountains nearby, snow began appearing all around the area, the humans in the nation emerging from their homes and work bundled up.  


None of them froze to death from her chill wind, thanks to the coats they had made themselves.  


_Wretched_ , the Glacian thought to herself. _At least they somewhat have perception._  


Her dreadful interior monologue was suspended by that loathsome voice she had abandoned at the Hall earlier.  


“You seem intrigued by these ‘delusional’ creatures, Frostbearer,” Ifrit sneered before kneeling next to her. Shiva rolled her eyes before turning to glance at him.  


“They offer nothing,” she argued in a flat tone, “but they are not unabridged simpletons,” she said the latter in a softer voice.  


She was lost in contemplation until she felt his heat draw closer to her. She focused her gaze upward, met with his outstretched hand waiting patiently for hers.  


“Accede to joining me in beholding them,” Ifrit’s timbre rumbled in his chest.  


_Obstruction is nonsensical, isn’t it._   


“Very well,” the Glacian murmured with resignation in her voice, gingerly placing her freezing hand in his toasty one.  


A smirk rolled itself onto the Infernian’s lips before they dissipated, traveling to wherever the Pyreburner determined.


	4. Coquetry

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ifrit shows Shiva how competent humans can be.  
> Titan ruins the moment; in a comical way.
> 
> Btw, the painting I'm referring to is this one: 
> 
> https://finalfantasy.fandom.com/wiki/Ifrit_(Final_Fantasy_XV)?file=Ifrit-Illustration-FFXV.png

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a buildup to what's in the next chapter.
> 
> AKA Bahamut and Ifrit are gonna chat.
> 
> It's not going to go well.

_Yet the Pyreburner admires their strength of will._

The Infernian had taken the Glacian to the forest near one of the neighboring villages.  


_What on **Eos** is this senseless god thinking_, Shiva thought to herself, looking down on the clearing they were scrutinizing. She studied Ifrit’s face, which carried a state of elation.  


During her examination of his features, she felt her own profile soften. He actually held fanciable traits. His orange eyes, which held a consistent merciful gaze. His kindred spirit fueled the warm aura around his form, with a persistence that made the Glacian question her own aura; was it as cold as she? Did it really seep of negativity and indifference, her main thoughts and feelings towards humans? Would she thrive from altering her perspective?  


“Watch,” her thoughts were cut off by Ifrit’s rumbling voice as his warming palm rested itself on the small of her back. His touch spread to the entirety of her back, but she did not shake him off. Had it been a mortal, they would have been incinerated upon contact – for Shiva, it was a dull warmth that was surprisingly snug.  


She complied and was met with a group of villagers in the clearing. They had brought chopped wood with them, to her bemusement. It was not easy to focus at first, due to the Infernian’s hand on her – she was uncertain of why that caused her focus to waver to a certain degree.  


Interest presented itself when the humans seemed to be using the wood to build something. Shiva tilted her head with a newfound spirit of inquiry, her chin resting on her palm.  


“The creatures are assembling lodgings,” she mused, a lilt in her voice.  


“Engrossing, isn’t it?” Ifrit grinned, still watching them, “the mortals are astute, Frostbearer. I am to grant them the Gift of Flame for their veneration.” When he explained this, one of the humans propped a plank against a nearby tree.  


The plank was adorned with a drawing of the Pyreburner on it, engulfed in flames with rage in his eyes. It was fronting from the Pyreburner that was currently next to her, adoring small living beings.  


_The ungrateful mortals incur the wrath of the Pyreburner. He seeks to raze the very civilization his flames once helped build_ , a voice whispered to her, akin to one she could not quite decode.  


She dismissed it as her own cynicism and continued to observe, seeing the mortals have already created a building with three rooms already assigned to each person. Admittedly, it was quite an impressive feat to see them use nothing but their own minds and will to manifest such a creation. No magic or godlike powers aided them – only their strength of will.  
The Glacian started to discern the Infernian’s benevolence towards mankind. They carried determination and resolve with them, despite their inevitable demises. The Glacian’s disdain towards them diminished only a little, but she did discover she was amazed by their work.  


“Noble,” Shiva agreed, careful to keep any hint of engrossment away from her tone; she did not want to hear the Infernian gloat. “They are creative in their will to survive. I still feel speculation as to how they are to benefit from the aid of the Gods,” she narrowed her eyes, but to a small degree. This statement incurred indignation from Ifrit, who turned to face her.  


“ _I **tire** of your supercilious mockery_,” he snarled before he walked close to her and grabbed her by her waist, the cool metal of her adornments chilling his own fiery touch. As soon as he touched her, they dissipated from where they had been previously and found themselves in a familiar place; the Hall of the Six.  


Even as their full forms made it, Ifrit even then did not release his unshakeable clutch on the Glacian’s waist. Giving her no time to retaliate or respond, he slammed her against one of the sacred trees that scattered the front of the meeting place, his arm securing itself around her waist. His free hand flung itself just next to her head, sending a warm wave of air past her earring. Shiva glared up at him, tensed up and leaning as far away from him as the tree would permit.  


To her dismay, it was not a long way at all.  


“Un _hand_ me, Pyreburner,” the Ice Goddess spoke brusquely, finding herself unable to even writhe from his touch. “Or would you like to reap what you sow?”  


During this exchange, Ifrit proceeded to move closer to her, his front now against hers. The cold metal that decorated her body contrasted his warm robes, which were soft and almost like that of coverings. His nails almost pierced into her skin, causing a hitch of breath from Shiva to make itself known from her being. She averted her eyes and did her best to not look him in the eye, concealing the faint flush of red that exposed her state of unnerve.  


“You’ve turned scarlet,” a sportive jeer danced in the Fire God’s tone, “it is, in sooth,” he carried on, “ _enchanting_.” The hand that had been beside Shiva’s head reached down and skimmed the apple of her cheek, which was cool to the touch. Speechless, she let her eyes fall closed; it was in vain to repudiate how reposeful his palm felt against her skin. Their noses were now almost touching, his headdress bumping her forehead in a gentle manner.  


“You are inequitable.”  


“ _Your doctrine is prejudiced_ ,” Ifrit retorted, a growl in his conviction. “Forbye, I detect no objection to my embosoming you, nor do I detect any to this,” his touch from her cheek glided down towards one of her wandering braids.  


Before Shiva could articulate any form of words, a well-known Archean used Gaia’s Wrath on Ifrit. He threw a nearby boulder at the Infernian with a frolicness that was otherwise hard to perceive when it came to the Earth-elemental; he had proven to be the least vocal of the Astrals, even when they all were gathering together (much to the mirth of the Draconian).  


Ifrit countered the large rock with Firaga, blasting it into seemingly millions of pieces. Shiva, protected by his back, took no impact of any kind from Titan’s assault. She was, however, grateful for the instantaneous interruption. She easily slipped out of Ifrit’s embrace, her coldness somehow not as consolatory as she’d have liked it to be.  


“Landforger, have you arrived for additional sparring?” Ifrit smiled, a roguish instinct taking over as he drew his sword.  


Titan only grinned in response, charging at him with a strong punch that the Infernian parried with a swing of his sword, flames prominent but low to the ground. Prior to commencing, Ifrit turned towards Shiva and leaned in, taking her hand in his to press a quick kiss to her knuckles. His lips were heated amongst her skin.  


“Until we meet again, Frostbearer,” the Pyreburner smiled broadly at her before he and the Archean took off to the sparring grounds, leaving Shiva still leaning against the tree with bewilderment and a palpitating heart.


	5. Advent of the Draconian

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's almost time for Ifrit to grant the mortals his gift of flame.
> 
> Bahamut ruins the fun and warns him not to get too comfortable.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bahamut's in the next chapter, too. 
> 
> Lucky you. ( ͡°Ĺ̯ ͡° )

“Your configuration has ameliorated since our preceding battle, Landforger!” the Pyreburner praised the Landforger as they averted each-others’ blows, “I commend you!”  


Titan beamed with pride at the well-deserved flattery, delivering another wave of Gaia’s Wrath from a new angle. The Archean was a god of few words; he spoke more through his exuberant movements as Ifrit mused about their respected abilities. The Infernian did a backflip off one of the incoming boulders hoisted his way, an uninhibited belly laugh releasing itself.  


It wasn’t until Ifrit found himself swerving and side-flipping off a particular sword that the atmosphere transformed. Another blade passed him swiftly, avoiding one of his horns by chance. He looked up to have his face twist into one of disfavor – for it was the Draconian, Bahamut, who had thrown the swords at the two sparring deities.  


The Pyreburner’s dislike towards him was justified; for him and the Bladekeeper found it strenuous to agree on matters involving their methods of giving aid to the mortals. However, they were united by that exact common purpose. Many of their encounters consisted of the “agree to disagree” belief. It worked for the Infernian.  


Bahamut’s obscured eyes narrowed when witnessing the playful altercation going on, flying down to where they were. He did not engage in any of their, as he considered them, “boorish” activities. As the proclaimed head of the Astrals, he simply had little time for recreational events; another area he and Ifrit's ideals clashed. To him, the Pyreburner had far too much hope for the mortals, believing they were not as strong-willed as he thought them to be.  


Especially with knowing what would come of the Pyreburner himself.  


Hovering above Titan and Ifrit, the Draconian withdrew the swords he had thrown at them with a chasmic sigh.  


“ _Pyreburner_ ,” he began, “Time is finite for the mortals. There is no period for the Astrals to indulge in disport.”  


A detectable eyeroll flashed across the Infernian’s prepossessing lineaments. “There is no defacement in sparring occasionally, Draconian,” he grumbled while sheathing his sword. “I had the desire to indulge before I am to grant my gift to the mortals.” The flames around him disappeared, as if sensing Bahamut as well.  


The Archean caught onto the lurking tension between the two gods, causing him to dissolve immediately to avoid hearing this discomforting exchange. Ifrit smiled apologetically as he left before he turned back to the God of War with a scowl.  


Said god only fired back with an even voice, “Your aspiration carries a magnanimous resolve. Howbeit, heed the consequence of granting your flame to the mortals, for their kind are predisposed to conceit. May they revere you as a god until their insolence ascends.”  


“You bear an acutely cynical ideology, Bladekeeper,” A low scoff left Ifrit’s lips, his robes clinging to his powerfully built frame as the wind created from the Draconian’s wings blanketed the area around them. “Their reverence will always conquer over their hubris. I am a God.”  


The Draconian refrained from exhaling a scoff. It was no wonder the Infernian’s fate would be one of cataclysm; his _own_ hubris had already escalated to heights unfathomable. As little as he worried for the Astrals, the Pyreburner was the one he truly was scrutinizing.  


Much to his dismay, Bahamut deduced he had no alternative.

**_“So it is ordained – the revelation of Bahamut.”_ **


	6. Revelation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ifrit and Bahamut have never quite seen eye to eye. When the Draconian tries telling him what's to come, the fickle God of Fire refuses to believe him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A short but involved chapter. Apologies for the delay in chapters, I've been in school. I now have an extra 2 weeks to catch up :D

The Infernian puffed out another sigh – it seemed that was all he did when the Draconian was involved, even more so now that he was transported to the inside of the Crystal.  


_Again._  


Being teleported to the Crystal meant yet _another_ monologue from Bahamut; usually referring to his pride, or how his faith in humans was far too confident compared to the other Astrals.  


Even so, this time felt distinct from all the other confrontations Ifrit had endured. He couldn’t quite place why, but there was something far more portentous about this meeting – the way Bahamut looked at him was often with disdain and a judiciousness that matched no other. This instance, however, the Pyreburner swore he saw a hint of desolation in those barely visible eyes.  


_**What** are you secreting, Bladekeeper?_  


“It is in this place,” Bahamut began, “where the Pyreburner will ultimately ascertain his fortuity. His unfaltering faith in mortals is praiseworthy, although it is to be in vain.” As he spoke, he looked down on the Infernian, who kept his chin raised – the Draconian was much larger in stature and size than he, yet he held no fear towards the God of War.  


“Absurdity,” Ifrit snarled. “I am a God. The mortals pray to us, Bladekeeper.”  


“The prophecy is ineludible, Pyreburner,” he went on, “upon being granted the gift of flame, their veneration will be evanescent. The ungrateful mortals will incur the wrath of the Pyreburner, who will seek to raze the very civilization he once helped build. The Darkness will endeavor in pervading itself all over our Star, and the Pyreburner will someday encourage the spread of the Starscourge.”  


It was madness. Ifrit could feel his anger boiling under his skin at Bahamut’s words – it was paradoxical, as he truly applauded the will the humans held within themselves.  


“Enough!” The Infernian roared, flames encircling his being to deter Bahamut from speaking. “They will adulate me, eternally! Can you not cease your disenchanted beliefs? I am to aid them, not relish in bloodshed.”  


“A man will seek the Pyreburner, to draw him away from the Light.”  


Hearing this sent Ifrit into a rage. Drawing his sword, he lunged at the Bladekeeper who easily dodged him with a summon of his blades.  


"You ween yourself as the almighty," the Infernian lashed out with burning diction, "yet you care little for humanity in itself."

"The Usurper will call the tune of the Pyreburner's psyche, and there is naught that can be done to circumvent the prophecy."

"INSOLENCE!" the smaller god roared.

Before Bahamut could protest, the harried God dissolved away, back to the mortal world. The Draconian typically carried an air of indifference – however, for the first time in what felt like eons, he discovered he felt a sliver of a seemingly faint emotion when it came to Ifrit.  


Anguish.


End file.
